


Spellbound

by Tipsy_Kitty



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Community: spnkink_meme, Dubious Consent, Hypnotism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipsy_Kitty/pseuds/Tipsy_Kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is a renowned 19th-century hypnotist. He puts Jensen under his spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in the late 19th century, so if you hate historical stuff, be warned. And if you love historical stuff, be warned, because this is surely full of anachronisms.

Jared and Jensen were at Young’s Hotel enjoying their standing weekly dinner engagement. If “enjoying” could be considered synonymous with “trying to annoy and needle one another to madness,” that is.

These dinners always started out pleasantly enough and then degenerated into the intellectual equivalent of an arm wrestling match as the night wore on and the wine was poured. Jared was quite sure he was brighter than Jensen, but he’d had to teach himself everything he knew by spending long hours poring over every book he could get his hands on. This did not help him win many arguments with Jensen, who dearly loved to remind Jared that he came from one of Boston's oldest and most prestigious families and had been formally educated at the finest schools in Britain, whereas Jared was merely the unschooled son of Polish immigrants.

Not for the first time, Jared wondered why it was that they continued this habit of dining together every week. They had known each other for years but it was a strange sort of friendship, built on thinly veiled insults and one-upmanship. Occasionally they would fall into bed with one another, although even there they fought for dominance and control. Jared generally enjoyed their rough bedroom games, but he often found himself wondering what it might be like to bed a docile and compliant Jensen. He would have loved to slide his cock between those firm ass cheeks someday, up into Jensen's hot, tight channel, but Jensen was very firm on that matter. He would be the impaler, never the other way around. And because Jared was just as stubborn as Jensen, they rarely did more than grind against one another or fuck the other's hand.

Still, Jared never really set out to mesmerize Jensen into becoming his sex slave. It just sort of happened that way.

 

 

"Sure, you can hypnotize any old scullery maid or stable lad of the unwashed masses," Jensen was saying as he swirled the brandy in his snifter. They had adjourned from the dining room to the club room and sat on squashy leather chairs in front of a roaring fire. "But a man of means and education? Highly doubtful."

Jared had sat through enough of these dinners and digestifs to keep the annoyance off his face.

"Surely you're not saying that a few years at Eton are the reason why you can't be hypnotized and so many others who attend my shows can?"

"Eton, that's part of it. And Oxford, of course. But resisting mesmerization also takes a certain strength of intellect and character that, no offense intended, I'm not sure your devotees possess."

"Hmm." Jared said thoughtfully.

“You don’t believe me?” Jensen challenged.

“No, I don’t,” Jared said. “Everybody’s mind works differently, of course, but I’ve yet to meet someone I couldn’t put under my spell. There is a reason why my treatment services are in such high demand, you know. And why my performances sell out nationwide.”

Jensen scoffed. Jared was quite aware of Jensen’s opinion of his “little shows,” as he called them.

“All right, old friend,” Jensen said. “If you can successfully put me under, I will buy the next year’s worth of Thursday night dinners.”

“And if I can’t?”

“You’ll buy, of course.”

It was a tempting offer. The dinners were incidental, of course; Jared made enough money with his stage act, _J. the Magnificent Mesmerizer,_ and by curing clients of all sorts of ills with his neuro-hypnotic treatments, that he did not need Jensen’s charity to continue dining in Boston’s finest eateries. But Jared would dearly love to shut Jensen up once and for all about Jared’s “little hobby,” as Jensen often called it.

Jensen’s own little hobby was writing scandalous novels that made women swoon, though he didn’t know Jared knew about _that._ He claimed to get all the intellectual stimulation he needed by writing the occasional article about philosophy or metaphysics, but Jared had snooped through his effects one day and found the manuscript for a dreadful little tale about a pirate who kidnapped a randy duchess. Now Jared delighted in following the stories of one “Baroness Jane Rosser” in some of the more popular women’s magazines.

“When shall we do it?” Jared asked.

“Right now. I took the liberty of booking a room at the hotel this evening. Let’s adjourn to my suite upstairs.”

Jared was annoyed that Jensen had just assumed Jared would tumble into bed with him after dinner, but he said nothing. It was possible of course that Jensen had planned a tryst with somebody else, but unlikely since he was so eager to get Jared up to his rooms.

“Do you need any of your special little baubles?” Jensen asked as they made their way into the suite’s parlor. The chambermaid had lit the gaslights in Jensen's absence, and the room was suffused with a golden glow. “I don’t want you crying foul when you lose our bet because your magic crystal was at home.”

Jared stifled his irritation. Damn Jensen and his condescending attitude. Jared had half a mind to make Jensen believe he was a housecat and then invite some of their mutual friends over for a nightcap.

But no, it would be enough to know that he’d won, that the “great intellect” of Jensen Ross Ackles could indeed be as suggestible as a bar wench or coppersmith.

“I have everything I need,” Jared said smoothly. “Let’s get started.”

 

 

They sat facing one another in wingback chairs, knees touching, holding hands. Jared looked intently into Jensen’s eyes, while Jensen seemed uncomfortable under his scrutiny. His eyes darted around the room, refusing to look back at Jared, but that didn’t matter. It was all in the voice anyway.

“So, Jensen,” Jared began, low and smooth. “I want you to relax just your toes for me. Listen to my voice and relax your toes. Now relax your feet and just follow my voice …”

After five minutes of using his soothing patter to get Jensen’s subconscious ready, he said “Follow my voice, Jensen, and do as I say. Just relax into the sound of my voice and do as I say.”

Jared released Jensen’s hands and leaned back in his chair.

“Jensen?”

“Yes, Mas-ter.” Jensen’s voice was colorless and without any variance in pitch, which was an atypical response from one of his subjects.

“How do you feel?”

“How do you want me to feel, Mas-ter?” Jensen asked, all wide-eyed innocence. Jared narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“You’re not under, are you?”

At that Jensen burst out laughing. “I told you it couldn’t be done! My mind is too sharp for your snake-oil prattle.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so contrary all the time,” Jared sighed.

Jensen looked contrite. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I just enjoy teasing you so.”

“Fine.” Jared stood up. “Well. I guess I should return home for the evening...”

“Jared,” Jensen said patiently. “You know I didn’t lure you up here just to win a year’s worth of dinners.”

Jared smiled. “Then I suppose we should adjourn to the bedroom.”

And they did.

 

 

It wasn’t until he saw Jensen again the following Thursday that he realized he might actually have planted a post-hypnotic suggestion in his old friend’s brain.

For one thing, Jensen was not nearly as argumentative as usual, and he was quick to agree with Jared’s statements.

For another, he followed even the most banal of requests instantaneously, actually lowering his fork to pass the salt the moment Jared asked it of him.

Jared didn’t want to tip his hand if he was wrong, but he was becoming deeply suspicious. Either Jensen was playing him for a fool, or he really _was_ doing everything Jared asked of him.

Finally Jared could stifle his curiosity no longer. Jensen might spend an evening pretending to be under Jared’s sway just to reveal his trickery at the end of the night for a laugh, but only threat of death would get him to open up about his unseemly pastime, unless he truly was under Jared’s spell.

“So Jensen,” Jared said as they settled in their usual chairs in the club room. “Tell me, how is your writing going these days?”

“Oh, very well, thanks for asking. I’m just working on…on…” a strange expression stole over his face then as opposing sides of his brain fought for control.

“It’s an… _article_ …about, about…Kant’s theory of…”

“Jensen,” Jared said, dropping his voice an octave. “Remember, I told you to do as I say. It feels good to do as I say. It feels _right_ to do as I say.”

Jensen’s head drooped a little and the tension in his face smoothed out.

“So Jensen,” Jared said again. “Tell me, how is your writing going these days?”

Jensen looked up, eyes sparkling, and began happily describing the lurid details of Baroness Rosser’s latest work of prose.

 

 

The next week Jared stopped in to visit Jensen twice, and continued to reinforce how pleasant it made Jensen feel to do as Jared told him. On his second visit he suggested they dine Thursday evening at Jensen’s house, and Jensen readily agreed to the suggestion.

“And Jensen? I think you should give the servants the night off.”

“Yes, of course Jared. That’s a grand idea.”

 

 

By the time Thursday rolled around Jared was so eager to put his plan into action that he was ready to leave the house by 3 o’clock. He forced himself to walk slowly through the city for a few hours so he could get his nerves (and his erection) under control.

Finally when the gas lamps were being lit up and down the streets, Jared turned in the direction of Jensen’s brownstone. Jensen answered at the first knock and Jared stepped in and pushed Jensen up against the wall, delivering a kiss of such force he was surprised it didn’t bruise Jensen’s lips blue.

“Take off your clothes,” Jared ordered as he flung his top hat across the room. “Now.”

Jensen immediately began to divest himself of his clothing. Jared watched eagerly as Jensen was bared before him. Usually they just wrestled out of their clothing in the dark and stripped each other’s cocks furiously; very occasionally Jared might pleasure Jensen with his mouth but Jensen usually refused to reciprocate unless he’d had too much wine with dinner.

Tonight? Jared wanted to take everything Jensen had been denying him for years.

He was already planning ahead to how he would tweak Jensen's suggestibility. Tonight would be fun, yes, but it would be much more fun to fuck a Jensen who still argued with him about every little thing. A Jensen who was convinced of his own superiority until Jared could command him to fall to his knees.

_So much for that Oxford education,_ Jared thought smugly. 

He considered hustling Jensen up to the bedroom, but then he paused. It might be amusing to have Jensen in a more public room in the house. A Jensen that wasn’t under Jared’s sway would never do something so indecorous.

“Come Jensen, let’s go into the parlor,” Jared said. “I’m going to teach you how to properly suck my dick.”

Jared slipped out of his trousers as soon as they were in the parlor, and he sat down in front of the fireplace.

“Come here, Jensen,” he said, gesturing that Jensen should kneel between his legs.

As Jensen started across the room Jared said “I didn’t say you could walk.”

Jensen looked at him, confused, and Jared smiled. “Crawl for me, Jensen. I’d really love to see you crawl.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jensen sat back in his chair, pleased with his morning’s work and the progress he had made on _The Milkmaid’s Virtue._ Time to reward himself with a cigarette and a fresh cup of coffee. He massaged his cramping hand and wondered if he should invest in one of those Type-Writers he had been hearing so much about.

He stood to stretch out the kinks in his back, eyes skimming quickly over the new passages, and then he stopped still, crimson with mortification, and sagged back into his chair.

Had he really written that?

Really?

Of course, there was always the _suggestion_ of activities his characters were engaging in behind locked bedroom (or stable or pub or cellar) doors, but this… this was not mere suggestion. No ladies magazine in the world would print such filth.

It appeared that Jensen had spent most of the morning writing a loving, five-page treatise on the virtues of Jared’s cock. How silky it felt in his hand, the weight of it on his tongue, the exquisite sensation of sliding it between his full, parted lips. How eager Jensen was to feel it breach his most private orifice, and how much he loved the, O Heavens!, the taste of Jared's… seed. (Which was ridiculous, as Jensen had certainly never allowed _that_ to happen.) Of course, the text was cloaked as the musings of Rosamund the milkmaid about Sir Julian's … shaft … but Jensen knew who he had really been writing about.

He squirmed in his seat, aware that his trousers were suddenly feeling a bit snug.

That’s it, he decided firmly. It was time to put a halt, at least temporarily, to their Thursday night dinners; clearly they had begun to addle his brain. Lately he seemed to return home later in the evening than usual, feeling curiously sated, and though he had vague recollections of chatting and drinking and clashing as usual, he could not conjure up any specific topics they might have discussed.

He looked over the pages again, wondering if anything could be salvaged. Even though the subject matter was a bit bawdy, he did have to admit that his prose was, as per usual, top-notch. Jensen patted himself on the back, figuratively of course, as he reached for his tobacco and rolling papers.

His musings were interrupted by a knock, and as Jensen granted admittance the door swung open to reveal his old friend. Jared took up most of the doorway, with his swirling cape, his top hat, the sheer mass of him. Jensen had always found Jared’s size both arousing and jealousy-inducing. Jensen did not like being smaller than any other man in any given room; it was perhaps why he so enjoyed reminding Jared of his many shortcomings and humble origins.

“Did you forget we had an appointment?” Jared asked as he tossed his cape onto a nearby chair.

“No, of course not,” Jensen lied as he hastily shoved his manuscript in a drawer. “What were we meeting about again?”

“I believe it had something to do with me bending you over that oversized desk of yours and stuffing my cock up your ass.”

Jensen sputtered. “Have you lost your mind? We don’t— _I_ don’t do that sort of thing!”

“You will,” Jared promised, stepping into Jensen's space. "If anyone's in need of a good rogering, it's you." Jensen backed up unconsciously, feeling like the imperiled heroine in one of his novels.

“I’ve been waiting for weeks to throw you down and screw you into the ground,” Jared growled as he positively _loomed,_ and Jensen felt simultaneously annoyed and aroused.

“I…what?” Jensen asked. For certain he did not remember weeks of any such thing. Jared leaned in so their lips were almost brushing, searching Jensen’s eyes. He did not seem to find what he was looking for, and whispered the word “twaddle" into Jensen's ear. Jensen immediately fell to his knees.

 

 

Jared was perturbed. It seemed his mind manipulations still needed some work. Jared didn’t want to fuck Jensen until he was absolutely begging for it, and he certainly didn’t want to do it while Jensen could barely remember their evenings together. He wanted Jensen to still be _Jensen,_ as arrogant a prick as ever, with one slight adjustment: That he would be driven to distraction with desire to lick Jared all over, suck Jared’s cock, let Jared grind into him slow and deep and hard and fast.

It didn’t seem like _so_ terribly much to ask.

He sank down into the black leather chair in the corner and sighed wearily. “Take all your clothes off, Jensen, and come here. Show me how eager you are to get your mouth around my cock.”

Jensen shucked off his clothes without any thought to the possibility of servants entering the room, and began sucking Jared with gusto.

"Slow," Jared said as he petted Jensen's hair. "Take your time. I need to think."

He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, awed once again by the sensation of Jensen's warm, wet mouth as he licked Jared's heavy cock and sucked at his balls. For a few moments he just surrendered to the pleasure Jensen's talented tongue conjured, and then he tapped Jensen's ear to get his attention.

"Jensen, I want you to hold my cock in your mouth for the moment and listen to me. Can you do that?"

Jensen's tongue stilled and he looked up at Jared through his long eyelashes, giving a small nod.

"I want you to treat me as you always have. If you feel contrary, you can be contrary. Do you understand?

Another nod and just the tiniest bit of suction, which made Jared groan.

"Just as you always... have. If you don't like my chosen career, you should tell me."

Another small nod, a slightly bolder suck.

"And... and... if you think you are my intellectual superior... then you should treat me that way."

Jensen continued to peer up at Jared, his mouth distended by the length and girth of Jared's cock.

"I want you to treat me as you always have. With thinly disguised contempt and lust."

In answer Jensen slid down Jared's shaft until his nose was touching Jared's pubic hair.

"Oh, _Lord_... wait, Jensen. Sit back."

Jensen reluctantly pulled away from Jared and looked up at him.

"As I've instructed you previously, you will continue to think about all the possibilities at your disposal for worshiping my cock when we are apart, and you may act upon those ideas when we are together. Do you understand?"

Jensen nodded.

"It will give you great pleasure to think about my cock and all the fun you can have with it. Do you understand?"

Jensen nodded with a whimper. His own dick was jutting out from his naked body, desperate for stimulation.

"When I snap my fingers, you will remember who you are and who I am to you and how much you love to belittle me."

Jensen nodded.

"You will _not_ remember how you blew me in your study whilst in the buff. But you _will_ be filled with curiosity and lust. You _will_ want to know for yourself my scent and my taste. How I feel as you suck me or kiss me or let me penetrate that very fine ass of yours."

 _"Do you understand?_ " Jared breathed.

Jensen nodded once more.

"Finish me off then, and make sure you leave no trace behind. Then you may dress again."

Jensen went back to work and Jared watched greedily as Jensen swallowed him down, head bobbing with enthusiasm.

"So...so good...." Jared groaned. He clutched at Jensen's hair and ripples of pleasure began radiating from his cock and his balls until he could hold back no more. With one last gasp he pumped into Jensen's eager mouth, down his throat, relishing the suction as Jensen swallowed everything down. He closed his eyes as he felt Jensen lick everything up from his softening dick. Then he heard a low moan and opened one eye.

"Please?" Jensen asked.

"Yes, you can finish yourself off as well," Jared said, feeling magnanimous. He was certain he'd finally hit upon the right set of commands so that Jensen would be his to enjoy. Soon he'd be able to remove the trigger word that he had planted because Jensen would feel lusty and needy just being in Jared's presence.

(Jared supposed that he should probably do that sooner rather than later, as any time someone complained about the state of contemporary literature Jensen might be obliged to fall to his knees and beg to suck cock.)

Jensen moaned and arched his back, his body a beautiful curve that Jared was dying to explore. He furiously jerked himself, panting and whispering nonsense, until he splashed his come over his hand and onto the tops of Jared's boots.

"I suppose you'd best clean that up as well," Jared said, and Jensen leaned over obediently and licked his spillage off the shiny leather until nothing remained.

 

 

Jensen heard a snap and he jumped a couple of inches off his chair.

"Am I keeping you awake?" Jared asked with amusement.

"Sorry, terribly sorry!" Jensen exclaimed. "I don't know what's come over me."

"Perhaps you've spent too many evenings burning the midnight oil on your... writing projects?"

Jensen twitched.

"Weren't you working on a refutation of Schopenhauer's aesthetic consciousness?" Jared asked innocently.

"Oh, yes, of course."

"Or were you working on a different writing project?"

Jensen almost thought he detected a gleam in Jared's eye but that surely wasn't possible. If Jared had any inkling about the existence of the Baroness Rosser, he would surely have brought it up already. Jared simply did not possess Jensen's self-restraint.

"No, no, that's the only project I have currently," Jensen said as he eyed the drawer where he had shoved his latest masterpiece upon Jared's arrival. "Although, it might turn into a longer project, possibly even a book. I wouldn't expect to see my name on any articles any time soon."

"Ahh," Jared said with amusement, and Jensen had to remind himself once again that Jared had all the self-control of a rabid orangutan. He could not possibly know Jensen's most forbidden secret.

"Well, I don't want to keep you, Jensen. I just wanted to remind you that I can't make the next few dinners as I'll be on tour."

Jensen felt a brief stab of alarm that it would be weeks before he saw Jared again, forgetting that he had been planning to cease their weekly meetings himself only a short time ago. Still, it wouldn't do to let on that Jared would be missed.

"Right, your little carnival act," Jensen said. "Will you be sharing your train compartment with the bearded lady this time? Or will it be the dog-faced boy?"

"Very droll," Jared said.

"Just remember, you still owe me 48 dinners."

"Of course," Jared said. "After all, you _are_ the only subject I've never managed to mesmerize."

"Exactly so," Jensen said smugly. "And I do not accept sideshow coupons as payment."

With one last smile and farewell Jared swept out the door. Jensen was surprised by how much he would miss Jared's company. Unwittingly, he thought about Jared's... physique, and he began to palm himself through his trousers. As he closed his eyes and surrendered to his imaginings, he thought about Jared naked, and hard, and demanding, and Jensen ached for his speedy return.


	3. Chapter 3

Jared had been touring for more than a month and Jensen felt a, well, an almost physical need to meet up with his old friend again.

Strange, as he'd never cared or even much noticed before if they went a few weeks without dining. Or "dining," as the case might be. He did not quite understand where these new yearnings had come from.

Of course, he did not understand because he had no memory of Jared paying him one last visit before he left town, the purpose of which was two-fold: to lift the posthypnotic suggestion that made Jensen crash mindlessly to his knees when the dreadful state of contemporary literature was mentioned, and to implant two more _teeny tiny_ suggestions.

The first was that in the event Jared's plans somehow went awry he should to be able to regain control quickly by putting Jensen under his sway immediately, as would happen now if Jared and only Jared were to use the word _somnambulism_ in Jensen's presence; and, the second, that every time Jensen heard the word _spell,_ spoken by anybody, he would feel a brief, hardly noticeable thrum of pleasure and desire in his loins, and his thoughts would turn, ever so slightly, to how aroused he was when he thought of his good friend Jared, and how much sexual pleasure could be achieved by licking or rutting against or impaling himself on the cock of said good friend.

The hidden proviso of this second cue, and the one that had Jared congratulating himself for his cleverness, was that the sensual effects of hearing the _spell_ command would be cumulative, and would only reset when Jensen had achieved his release in Jared's presence.

By Jared's command.

 

 

Jensen knew none of this, of course; he just knew that he was very eager for Jared's tour to be over.

So he was filled with consternation when he saw that not only had Jared returned without calling, but he was escorting a small blond chap into the men's club they both frequented.

"Jared!" he called, more sharply than he'd intended.

Jared turned, waved blithely at Jensen, and then continued onward to his table in the dining room. Jensen flushed to the tips of his ears. "The nerve!" he muttered as he pushed his way over to the happy duo.

"Hello Jensen!" Jared greeted him. "Have you been introduced to--"

Jensen ignored the smaller man entirely.

"Jared. It's Thursday night."

"Is it now? Ah, I guess it is."

"I was given to understand we had a standing dinner engagement on Thursday evenings."

"Ah, yes, well," Jared said. "Something came up, as it were." He winked at his companion and Jensen turned to give the smaller man a scathing look.

"How long have you been back in town?" Jensen asked, appalled that he sounded like one of the shrill, brow-beating wives in a Baroness Rosser novel but unable to stop himself.

"Oh, a week perhaps?" Jared guessed.

"A--a--" Jensen sputtered.

"There there, old man," Jared said. "You're going to work yourself up into some sort of fit."

Jensen closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "I thought you said you would let me know when you were back in Boston," he continued, voice terse.

"Oh, I had every intention, dear friend. Then I ran into Thad here and I've been rather, diverted, ever since."

Here Thad offered Jensen a tentative smile, which Jensen returned with a scowl.

"Anyway, we're both here now," Jared continued. "Why don't you have a seat, join us for a spell?"

Jensen felt the oddly familiar rush of warmth that he'd been experiencing lately, a tingling surge of need that radiated outward from his genitals and all the way to his extremities. He squirmed slightly and adjusted his pants.

"Something wrong?" Jared asked with a gleam in his eyes.

"No, of course not. I'll just take my leave," Jensen said, although he didn't much look like he wanted to go anywhere without Jared.

He tried to adjust himself surreptitiously again.

"I think Doctor Wilke has a cream for that, you might want to get it checked out," Jared said, nodding his head towards Jensen's crotch even as he turned back to his companion.

Jensen stormed off into the crisp October evening, seething, his own dinner plans quite forgotten.

After only half a block though he whirled around and headed back towards the Raleigh Club before he even knew what he was doing. He marched up to Jared's table, furious.

"You broke our standing engagement for this, for this--" and here he turned to look poor discomfited Thad in the eye, "This fancyman?!"

"Well," Jared said, his voice dropping in the way that made Jensen think of molten honey, of salted cream. "Thad here is quite willing to let me get to the, ah, bottom of things, as it were," Jared said. "Whereas you have always been rather reticent in that regard."

Thad's cheek's colored at the innuendo and Jensen saw red. He grabbed Jared's armed and hauled him to his feet.

"Jensen! Unhand me!" Jared said, though he looked amused. "I was just joking, but you actually might be having some sort of fit or…spell."

Jensen growled and yanked Jared forcefully towards the exit.

"Sorry, Thad, raincheck?" Jared called over his shoulder, laughing. "Just have Bernard put your dinner on my tab!"

 

 

Jensen steered Jared down the busy sidewalk, gripping his arm fiercely.

"You weren't very nice to my friend back there," Jared said mildly.

"Fuck your friend."

"Yes, well, that _was_ sort of the point of the evening until you showed up."

Jensen grimaced but said nothing as he continued moving them inexorably towards Jared's empty suite of rooms.

"You seem rather impatient tonight Jensen, is there some matter you wished to discuss with me?" Jared asked as he fitted his key in the lock.

As he crossed the threshold he felt strong arms slide around his hips and towards his trouser buttons.

"Upstairs," Jensen growled.

"You're awfully demanding this evening," Jared said.

In response Jensen stroked Jared through the thick cloth of his pants and said "Upstairs, _now._ "

In Jared's bedchambers Jensen immediately moved to lower the lamps but Jared stopped him.

"Not tonight. I want to see everything tonight, Jensen."

"But…"

"I'm tired of fumbling around in the dark. If you want me you should want to _look_ at me, as I want to look at you."

Jensen shuddered with embarrassment, knowing as he did that the kind of acts Jared wanted them to perform tonight should only be done in the dark.

"Unless you'd rather leave?" Jared asked.

"No!"

"Then tell me what it is you want."

Jensen felt his body coming alive under Jared's strong voice, his commanding words. He had never felt like this before in Jared's presence, and he felt as though he were coming undone.

"I want you to…" Jensen said.

"Yes?"

"To…"

"What?"

Jensen fell silent for a moment until Jared said "For heaven's sake man, if you can't tell me what you want I'll bring Thad round again!"

"Can I…use my mouth on you? Would that be agreeable?"

"I don't know, Jensen, you've never been very fond of performing fellatio. I wouldn't want you to feel pressured…"

But Jensen had sunk to his knees, unbidden, and was removing Jared's pants with eager hands.

Jared let him mouth at his hardness for a few moments before he stopped Jensen with a firm grip to his jaws.

"Stop, wait. This _is_ nice, Jensen, you've improved," Jared said as he petted Jensen's tawny hair. "But I was really hoping to sink my cock into Thad's tight chamber tonight, and you've rather ensured that won't be happening. And as I've been having rather a dry spell lately…"

Jensen stood and quickly stripped himself of his vestments until he was mostly nude, cock bobbing upwards greedily.

"Mine, take mine. Not that silly fancyboy's. Mine."

Jensen crashed into him with a desperate kiss, fingers scrambling to undo the buttons of Jared's shirt.

"You, I want you, I want you in me. You, you ridiculous charlatan."

Well. That was as much as Jared could have hoped for, and he pushed Jensen onto his back on Jared's soft featherbed.

"You're going to prime yourself for me?" he said, voice dusky, as he crawled up Jensen's body. "With your own fingers?"

"Yes!"

"You're going to let me grease up that chute of yours and slide in until I’m--"

"Yes, Saints above, yes!"

Jensen moaned, thrusting his cock into the air as Jared stood to remove the rest of his own clothes and then, as an afterthought, Jensen's brown wool socks.

"Are you sure this is what you want? You've never wanted it before and, well, I'd hate to take advantage if you _are_ having a fit or spell or some such."

Jensen rolled onto his stomach and hitched his lovely round ass cheeks high in the air, his desire swooping up to dizzying heights. After all, and for reasons he did not fully understand, he had not _expressed_ himself since before Jared left for his tour except for one rather embarrassing instance when he'd had the kind of dreams schoolboys were so prone to.

He reached blindly for the pot of salve he knew Jared kept in the bedside table. He still had enough presence of mind to feel ashamed, and he buried his head in pillows as he swiped the first dollop of salve onto his finger and began to swirl it tentatively around his opening.

"Roll over," Jared murmured. "I want to watch. Want to watch you get yourself ready for me."

Jensen blushed crimson but he rolled over as directed, spreading his legs wide, feet planted firmly on the bed.

"Go on, then," Jared urged, his tilted eyes dark and narrow with desire.

Jensen tentatively pushed the tip of his finger in and found it was not nearly as disagreeable as he had always imagined it might be. In fact, it felt rather…pleasant…

He cast his eyes up to the ceiling but Jared said "Look at me, Jensen," and Jensen did, their eyes locking as Jensen continued working his finger inside of himself.

"Yes," Jared said as he slowly began stroking his thickening cock. "Another. You can't wait to come on my cock, I know it."

And it was true, Jensen could barely contain himself, so eager was he to climb onto Jared's lap and slide down his greased shaft.

"More," Jared whispered, and Jensen pressed another finger into his dark channel, breath hitching, cock seeping pre-ejaculate. He'd been experiencing a dull, mostly background clench of desire for the past few weeks at odd moments but now that need was ratcheting up until he wasn't sure he could last much longer.

"Still, more," Jared said, and Jensen was three fingers in, hips wriggling shamelessly, breathy groans that would not be out of place coming from the mouths of one of the Baroness' milkmaids or fishwives.

"Are you ready for me?" Jared asked, as he coated his own cock with salve.

Jensen held his gaze and nodded. "Please," he whispered. "Please. Need you."

Jared knelt between Jensen's spread thighs and hooked his elbows through his bent knees, raising Jensen's ass off of the bed slightly.

"Been wanting to do this _forever_ ," Jared hissed as he lined up his cock head with Jensen's hole, which still looked impossibly small. " _God,_ you're sexy…"

 

Jared couldn't quite believe how well the plan he's set in motion so many weeks ago had worked, and he was pleased that he'd had the patience to lay the trap so carefully. Resisting the urge to call on Jensen immediately upon returning to Boston was one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, as was waiting several more days until Jared could engineer a chance meeting.

He wasn't a complete cad though, as he and Thad had slipped from lovers into a comfortable friendship some months back. Thad would perhaps be confused as to the innuendos Jared had cast his way, but he would not be overly distressed to have lost a dining companion for the evening.

And now, Jensen lay spread out before him, needy and desperate for release, release that only Jared could grant.

It was a heady feeling.

He breached the first tight ring slowly and carefully, studying Jensen's face as he did for signs of discomfort or distress, but Jensen just looked eager so he continued to press in.

It was taking all of his self control to ease himself inside rather than thrusting until his dick was buried in Jensen, but he did not want tonight's activities to be a one-time thing so he was careful and gentle, and so slow that Jensen began whining for him to press in further.

"Oh, God," Jared groaned as he slid towards home, and Jensen answered him by running his fingers through Jared's soft hair as Jared continued to seat himself.

When he was all the way in, balls snug against Jensen's firm hind cheeks, he paused a moment and then began rocking his hips gently, getting Jensen used to the sensation of fullness and movement.

Jensen had other ideas though, his cock almost painfully hard with the need to release and he began begging Jared to _fucking move, Jay._ Jared continued to rock gently, slightly withdrawing and pushing back in, ever so slowly picking up the pace.

Jensen grabbed Jared's hair painfully tight and snarled "Are you going to fuck me or what, you milksop?"

Jared reared back and gave him a dark look. He withdrew his cock until just the tip remained in Jensen, and then slammed home to the base, causing Jensen to grunt, startled.

"Like that?" he growled.

"Uh…huh…" Jensen said, his words escaping on gasps of air as Jared pushed hard and fast into him.

The first time his cock head brushed against Jensen's interior pleasure point, he started and gasped, and it was clear to Jared that Jensen apparently had never let anyone or anything into his channel. Jared himself had spent many pleasant afternoons exploring the delights contained in that secret bundle of nerves, and he pitied Jensen's straight-laced ways, and that his sexual reticence found vent only through swift gropes in darkened rooms and the dreadful bodice rippers he wrote. 

"Gonna fix that," Jared said as he locked his eyes on Jensen, who trembled beneath his gaze. "Gonna fix you."

Jensen quivered, lost in mindless pleasure and near to crying as he tried to achieve release.

Jared picked up his steady pace and fucked into Jensen relentlessly, narrow hips grinding hard and deep. His palms were planted to either side of Jensen's hips, which forced Jensen's legs back further and spread wide.

"Look so hot like this, Jen," Jared murmured. "Spread for me, just me. Taking my cock so good."

"Please!" Jensen moaned. He was panting, his dick bobbing up and down with the force of Jared's thrusts. As Jensen brushed his hand over his purple cock he whimpered, and Jared knew that slight touch should have sent him off like a firecracker but for that last wicked detail he had planted in Jensen's subconscious.

Jared quieted his hips for a moment.

"Do you need to come, Jensen?"

"Please, please!"

Jared started moving again, careful to connect with Jensen's gland on each outward drag and inward push.

"Such a needy slut," Jared whispered, picking up the pace and bucking into Jensen until he did not think he would be able to hold back much longer.

"Are you?"

"Please, Jared, O God--"

"Tell me what you are?" Jared demanded as he fucked Jensen mercilessly.

"Please!"

Jared gripped Jensen's weeping cock and squeezed the sensitive head until tears leaked from the corners of Jensen's eyes.

"Tell me!"

"A slut, your slut, need it, please…"

Jared's orgasm ripped through him, fire pulsing through him until he was coming deep inside Jensen, biting his lip to stifle his cries.

When he finished he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Jensen's.

"Come Jensen. Come now."

Jensen almost sobbed in relief as weeks of sexual frustration were finally resolved by him shooting thick milky streams of fluid all over his belly and chest.

Jared lowered Jensen's legs gently to the bed and then leaned over to lick up some of Jensen's release.

Jensen groaned and closed his eyes as he sunk even deeper into the bed.

"You are a filthy, filthy man," Jensen murmured sleepily.

Jared hummed in happy agreement as he swirled his tongue over Jensen's abdomen.

"So many things to teach you, Jensen," he said as he finally eased himself out of Jensen's ass and stretched out next to him on the soft bed.

Jensen snorted, already half asleep, while Jared, deeply contented, looked at the dancing shadows cast on the ceiling by the lamps. He wondered how long he would have to deny Jensen release before he would agree to use his agile tongue on Jared's own dark passage.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared is a renowned 19th-century hypnotist. He puts Jensen under his spell.

The rhythmic rocking of the train pulled Jared down towards a pleasant half-slumber where his thoughts were formed from pictures rather than words. He felt dozy and contented, and he bristled in annoyance when the door to his compartment opened until he realized the trespasser was Jensen.

"Hello, love," Jared said sleepily. Even with his eyes half closed he could tell Jensen was blushing at the endearment, in that way he had that made his many freckles stand out. Jared patted his lap and said "Come sit on my cock and amuse me."

"Jared!" Jensen hissed, sliding the compartment door closed quickly, scandalized. However, Jared had paid handsomely so that he and Jensen could be alone on their journey to Chicago; the way was smoothed considerably because the railroad baron who owned this line was much indebted to the Magnificent Jay for using his mesmerism skills to cure his wife's nervous condition.

"We are quite alone, Jensen, and my cock is quite lonely."

Jensen pursed his lips like the old hen he was, and Jared tipped his head towards the warm window, laughing softly.

Jensen's eyes flashed with that look that he got when his opposing sides were at war with each other. The Jensen who'd grown up in one of Boston's oldest, finest families was affronted at the thought of any sort of public affection, much less with another man. But the Jensen that Jared had carefully unearthed, like a blind worm struggling towards the sun at the turn of a spade, he was a different Jensen all together, enthralled by the new physical sensations Jared had opened him to, and tantalized at the thought of being so very naughty in a public space.

"Sit, friend," Jared murmured. "I procured cocktails from a most helpful porter."

Jensen sat next to Jared and managed to contain his ire for all of ten seconds.

"Was he an _attractive_ porter?"

"Attractive enough," Jared said as he watched a lazy fly try to exit the train through the window until it was quite dazed and twirled listlessly to the floor of the compartment.

Jensen huffed.

"O, calm yourself, let's play some cards. I'm not trysting with a sleeping car porter, you old fool."

Jensen, slightly mollified, though certainly not _old_ , allowed Jared to set the card-playing lapboard over the arms of his seat.

"What then?" Jensen asked. "We need two more for Whist."

In answer Jared slid his right hand underneath the lapboard, zeroing in on Jensen's already chubby cock.

"Jared!"

"Set your hands upon the board."

Jensen did, dropping the cards and stilling his hands, palms down.

"Shuffle the cards," Jared suggested, his voice low and rich.

Jensen drew in a breath but obediently picked up the cards and nervously shuffled the deck.

Jared felt the same old thrill he always felt when Jensen followed his commands, especially since he was no longer under any post-hypnotic orders to do so.

Some weeks after the night Jensen finally let Jared fuck him, had _begged_ Jared to fuck him, he had put Jensen under once more to remove the _spell_ suggestion. Although Jared thought it highly amusing—and arousing—that Jensen would track him through the city and haul him off to bed any time his cook had to "sit and rest her dogs a spell," as she was apparently _quite_ fond of saying, it was not terribly practical. And anyway, the point had been to increase Jensen's libido, always before held in check by his stuffy demeanor and sense of propriety, and that was certainly no longer a problem.

He had wrestled with whether or not to lift the _somnambulism_ command; it was, after all, rather convenient to be able to put Jensen under so quickly and effortlessly, but he finally decided that too should go.

His initial victory, after all, had been in putting Jensen under his sway in the first place, since Jensen had so arrogantly claimed it impossible. He had no reason to continue keeping Jensen thusly influenced by Jared's words.

And besides, there was another, sweeter, victory to having Jensen whenever he wanted because Jensen also wanted him.

Underneath the board, Jared began to unbutton Jensen's trousers.

"Jared," Jensen hissed.

"Hush, love," Jared said in his most mesmerizing voice, and Jensen hushed.

Jared marveled at how far they had come in the past ten months as his strong hand continued searching for entrance into Jensen's trousers. Finally he bared Jensen's hardening flesh, his hand lightly grazing Jensen's cock. Jensen drew in a sharp breath but continued to shuffle the cards, rocking only slightly into Jared's caress.

Jensen jumped as though slapped when there came a knock on the coach door. Jared's hand never faltered in its sure strokes as he called out, "You may come in."

The porter entered with a bottle of Glenlivet and two glasses.

"Ah, that's a good man," Jared said as he eyed the bottle appreciatively. It glinted in the late afternoon sunlight slanting through the car windows. "That looks marvelous, don't you think Jensen?" His hand slid down to cup Jensen's balls and then back up to the head, one fingertip prying at Jensen's wet slit. Jensen's knees knocked up against the lapboard, his hands stuttering before he continued to shuffle the deck.

"Marvelous," Jensen echoed, biting his upper lip.

"Is your friend quite all right, Mr. Padalecki?" the porter asked with concern, noting Jensen's glazed eyes and shallow puffs of breath.

"Nothing a libation can't cure. You can set those upon the lap board, my good man."

The porter set down the bottle and glasses, and Jared noted with amusement that his hands were a mere half-inch away from Jensen's bare and straining cock, separated by only the thinnest piece of wood.

"Will there be anything else, gentlemen?" the porter asked.

"Nothing for me. Jensen old friend, is there anything the porter can get for you?"

Jensen shook his head quickly. "No, nothing, ahhh, nothing," he gasped as Jared gave an especially deft swirl to the sensitive flesh under his cock head.

The porter raised his eyebrow, perhaps finally noticing how Jared's right arm disappeared underneath the lapboard on Jensen's seat.

"Well. Carry on then," the porter said before making his escape.

Jensen groaned, long and low, once the door was shut. Jared could tell he was furious, though his erection had never flagged during the encounter with the porter, had in fact grown even harder and more insistent in Jared's hand. Jared leaned over to kiss the corner of his mouth, licking it softly as his hand cupped Jensen's tight balls and then moved back up towards the head, and Jensen did upset the lapboard finally as his hips jerked forward violently and he began to paint the underside of the board with his semen.

"Damn you, Jared," Jensen said, his breath ragged. Jared laughed as he carefully moved the drinks and playing board aside and began dabbing at Jensen with a soft linen handkerchief. "He could have us arrested. Or worse."

"Him? Doubtful," Jared scoffed. "I saw him checking out your shapely rear as we were climbing aboard."

"You are a wretched man," Jensen grumbled, though there was little heat in his statement. "You make me wait for days to release and then practically frisk me in public!" He buttoned up his trousers, muttering "wretched, filthy, debauched, wicked, _wicked_ man—"

"All the reasons you love me," Jared said with a flash of dimples, and Jensen could not disagree with that statement, as much as he might want to at times.

The train rolled on through the night and finally arrived at Chicago's Union Station the next afternoon. The travelers disembarked feeling rumpled and worn. Jared steered them into a waiting cab and collapsed inside.

"I'm glad we have a couple of days to ourselves before my shows start," he murmured, eager to stretch out and sleep in a real bed. And then of course, to stretch out and _not_ sleep in said same bed.

"I can't believe they let a charlatan like you perform at the Exposition."

"I can't believe they let a hack like you publish novels."

Jensen snorted. "You are jealous of my literary achievements. It is an unpleasant shade of green on you."

As the cab plodded through the muddy streets of Chicago and Jared began to doze again, head lazing against the carriage window, Jensen considered Jared's last statement. Jensen was still not sure how it was that he came to spill his darkest secret to Jared, only that it was a relief to no longer have to hide Lady Jane from at least one person in his life. Jared was by turns indulgent of his pastime and gently mocking, but he never treated it with the derision Jensen had expected, the derision, if he was honest with himself, he would have heaped upon Jared if the tables were turned.

The horse drew to a stop in front of the Hyde Park House and they tumbled wearily from the cab.

At the front desk, Jared informed the concierge that he and his stage manager needed to be in adjoining rooms "to discuss certain aspects of lighting and props and my performance," and the concierge made it so without comment.

Jensen was not terribly fond of being kept on staff as Jared's "stage manager," as he thought it a bit unseemly to be employed in _any_ capacity, save for his literary musings. However, he did enjoy the excuse it gave him to travel with Jared from city to city, and it had in fact been his idea. "For your own good, since you are quite inept when it comes to caring for yourself," he had told Jared when the plans for the last tour were being made.

Jensen knew that Jared thought he was acting jealous and irrational but he played along anyway to Jensen's relief. Jensen was not sure what he would have done if Jared were to leave one week to mesmerize the denizens of New York and return the next with a new Thad on his arm. The idea was insupportable. But Jared had rather… healthy appetites, and Jensen thought it best to keep him sated. Liked being the one tasked with keeping Jared sated.

At the door to their adjoining suites Jensen paid the bellhopper while Jared made a beeline for the bed.

He flopped down with a groan. "Train compartments were not made for men of my size."

"Nothing was made for men of your size," Jensen pointed out as he unknotted his cravat and laid it over the back of a chair.

"It's not fair," Jared mumbled into his pillow.

"What does your actual stage manager think of this arrangement?"

"I think he's just glad to be relieved of the duty of fellating me after each performance."

Jensen scowled at him. "I trust you are teasing me again."

Jared hummed noncommittally and Jensen felt a flush of irritation. The man was simply impossible sometimes.

"Jared, you are grimy and covered with coal and dust and if you think I'm sharing that bed with you after you roll around in your own filth—"

Jared climbed to his feet with a sigh. "Fusspot."

"Barbarian."

Jared stripped off his clothes and stepped up to the basin, wetting a cloth and wiping himself down.

"Better?" he asked turning around. Jensen eyed his naked form.

"Much."

After Jensen's own quick wash, they both collapsed onto the large bed and burrowed under the covers.

"Just for a minute," Jared mumbled.

"Hmm hmmm," Jensen agreed, and then they were both out like snuffed candles.

 

Jared awoke disoriented, as a shaft light from the setting sun landed on his upturned face. He closed his eyes again, slowly remembering himself. Chicago. Hyde Park. Columbian Exposition.

Jensen.

He felt a gentle warmth on his balls and opened his eyes again to see Jensen laying between Jared's splayed legs, mouthing at the cotton of his undershorts.

"Hi," Jared mumbled, suddenly flushed with arousal and the sultry heat of the Chicago summer evening. Even still, sleep threatened to pull him under again until Jensen's soft hands stripped him of his last garment and his soft tongue began lapping at his swelling cock.

"Jen?" Jared murmured drowsily. The name on his lover's lips went straight to the low-down pulse in Jensen's belly connected directly to his cock, and Jensen groaned as he began to suckle the head of Jared's prick.

Jared grasped at the bedcovers as he began rocking into Jensen's wet mouth, those perfect lips stretched round to encircle Jared's heavy cock. It felt marvelous, and Jensen had been too timid on the train to properly perform this act that Jared had become accustomed to experiencing on an almost daily basis.

But now he was making up for lost time by tonguing at Jared until his cock was slick shiny, moaning around Jared's cock as he rutted against the bed beneath him.

It was just possible that Jared had left in some coda in Jensen's conditioning that allowed him to feel an almost immoderate pleasure from swallowing Jared's cock.

Inadvertently, of course.

"Ah ah," Jensen said, pulling off with a wet pop. "How are you going to fuck me if I let you come down my throat?"

"You let me worry about that," Jared growled, fingers tightening on Jensen's shoulders. Jensen lowered his head again, sucking and swirling on the head of Jared's cock until Jared was humming with pleasure, then he bent further and began tonguing at Jared's puckered hole.

"By the Gods," Jared groaned, his toes curling as Jensen stretched his soft wet tongue up into Jared's most private channel.

He bucked his hips and Jensen pressed him down into the bed, holding him still as his tongue continued its exploration. His fingers danced from Jared's hips over to his swollen cock and began stroking in time with his driving tongue. Jared gripped the bedspread, trying to hold on to this pleasure for a little longer, but the combination of Jensen's magical tongue sliding in and out of him and the soft brushes of his fingers stroking at Jared's tight balls and his shaft sent Jared over the edge, and his dick began pulsing hot come that pooled on his abdomen.

Jensen gave one last swipe of his tongue between Jared's cheeks and then slid further up his body until he was licking up Jared's release, swirling his tongue through the mess, dipping into Jared's belly button to clean up every drop.

"Good God," Jared said, panting, and Jensen smiled, pleased.

 

 

They freshened up and went down to the dining room where they shared a light supper and a bottle of wine. Jared could tell that Jensen was keen to return to the bedroom so he could achieve his own release; he continually crossed his legs and shifted his pants in a way that Jared found delightfully endearing.

"It's early still," Jared said, as the waiter swept away the last of their dishes. "If you'd like we can go take a look at this famed White City?"

"We'll have plenty of time for that," Jensen said. "I think we should have an early night."

Jared raised his eyebrows. "Are you propositioning me, good sir?" He asked. Jensen pursed his lips. Jared never seemed to tire of making Jensen admit how lustful Jared made him feel, even after all this time. He liked nothing more than getting Jensen to admit how wrong he had been about the pleasures Jared could offer him.

Well. He liked _some_ things more.

"Maybe a quiet evening is just what we need," Jared said thoughtfully. "I brought along _The Pickwick Papers_ to keep me entertained while you work on your writing."

Jensen huffed. "I rather thought you might want to return my earlier…favor."

Jared's eyes danced. "I am not such a young man anymore, old friend," he said. "I did warn you that you might want to hold off on my…arrival."

Jensen sighed with irritation. Jared had the stamina of a stevedore and they both knew it, just as they both knew how much he loved to tease and torment Jensen.

They returned to their chambers and no sooner had the door swung shut than Jared began unbuttoning and loosing Jensen's clothing and then his own. Jensen sighed with relief. He had been rather, ah, firm ever since he'd awoken Jared with his warm tongue, but it seemed that Jared's new favorite thing, after months of fucking and sucking Jensen daily until he was insensate, was to make him wait for his release. Beg for his release.

Jared, of course, still indulged his own appetites as often as he liked but when it came to Jensen he would murmur that Jensen would enjoy it so much more if he held off, and Jensen found himself doing what Jared said.

It was quite infuriating, even if his pleasures did seem to double or treble when he was finally allowed to orgasm.

Sometimes Jensen swore that Jared's honeyed voice might be affecting him as much as the foolish crowds that hailed him as a master mesmerist, but of course that was ridiculous.

Jensen Ackles would never succumb to such nonsense. He had studied at Oxford, for heaven's sake.

 

 

Once they were both quite naked Jared steered Jensen over to the long cherry desk in the suite's parlor and pressed his hips against the short end of it.

"Bend over, love," he said. Jensen shivered in anticipation. He heard Jared walking away and then returning and Jensen waited for the cool touch of Jared's salve-covered finger to breech him. Instead, Jared set a large pile of papers in front of Jensen's face, which he realized straightaway was his newest manuscript, and said "I want you to read to me first."

"Jared!" Jensen seethed, pushing his ass back with longing, but Jared had moved alongside the desk and was watching Jensen's naked form with amusement.

"Read to me," Jared said again. "If you do a good enough job I'll see what I can do to accommodate you."

Jensen scowled with displeasure, leaning up on his elbows and shuffling to the newest pages. There was no arguing with Jared where bedroom matters were concerned.

"Must I stay bent over like a dog being mounted?" He snapped.

"If you want to be mounted yourself, then yes."

Jensen swore under his breath and began to read. As he did he heard Jared moving around behind him, shuffling through his luggage in search of something.

_"Isabella turned her soft-eyed gaze to the gentleman in front of her, commanding of stature and dark of hair, as he rose to his full height to greet her, his aquamarine eyes drinking in her tawny curls, her lightly freckled cheeks, and her rosy cupid's bow lips; she cast her eyes downward demurely, aware of a warmth in her chest that caused her to blush even more prettily as she made note of his—"_

Jared stepped up behind Jensen and slowly parted his round cheeks.

"Made note of his what, love?"

Jensen ignored him and continued reading aloud, though his hips began to grind into the desk as he tried to create friction on his neglected cock. Jared grasped Jensen's hips and pulled him backwards two steps so that his penis bobbed in the air, untouched.

"Jared!"

"I'm curious to know whether you can achieve an orgasm if I work you only from the inside. What do you think?" Jared murmured, mostly to himself. Jensen knew the question was rhetorical and he gritted his teeth. He drew in a sharp breath as Jared finally greased up one of his long fingers and slid it easily inside, twisting it around as Jensen grunted and pushed back.

"More, please Jay, I—"

"Read."

Jensen clenched his jaw and resumed his narrative.

 

 

Jared added a second finger as Jensen continued the story of the blushing Isabella and her dark-eyed paramour, noting with satisfaction how Jensen rocked back against his hand. He crooked his index finger and Jensen stuttered, lost his place, and finally swept the manuscript off the desk in frustration.

"Temper," Jared clucked.

"Shut up and put your cock in my ass," Jensen snapped.

"Hmm. I thought we'd try something different tonight."

Jensen twisted around to look at him but Jared said "Eyes forward" and Jensen turned back around. He dug his fingers uselessly into the smooth wooden sides of the desk and widened his stance a little. Jared was pleased to see how quickly he did as Jared asked, even though he was probably more than a little irritated with Jared's slow tease.

Jared removed his fingers and Jensen whimpered, wriggling his hips in a way Jared found most fetching.

He turned to the discreet wooden box he had packed with him and removed a good-sized silver phallus. As he pressed the cool metal into Jensen his friend startled.

"What the devil—?"

"Shhh," Jared whispered. "I promise, you're going to love this."

He worked the silver shaft slowly in and out as Jensen began to rock back against it. Once he had it all the way in, flared base flush against Jensen's plump cheeks and gently curved tip angled towards Jensen's prostate, he twisted the key and the clockwork toy began to vibrate.

"Holy—!" Jensen exclaimed, and then bit his lip to silence his cries.

"What's it feel like?" Jared asked, curious. "I'm told it's like nothing else."

"Oh god, oh god," Jensen panted as his body shuddered with ecstasy at this strange new sensation, ripples of lust spreading through his body.

The toy started to wind down and Jensen whimpered.

"You look amazing like this Jensen, so hot, so slutty. You're desperate for cock, aren't you?"

Jensen moaned.

"You need something stuffed up that tight ass of yours, don't you? Don't even care what it is anymore, you just need to be filled, don't you?"

Jared wound the spring again and then rocked it with his hand in and out a couple of times before ensuring that it was once again snug against Jensen's prostate.

"You love getting fucked by me don’t you Jen, knew you would, knew you'd love it, knew you'd love having that ass filled up by my big dick."

"O God!" Jensen cried, the neighboring hotel guests quite forgotten. "O God, please God," he gasped, voice frayed, as his cock began to spurt white fluid that ran down the side of the wooden desk in thick rivulets.

Even as Jensen first began to spasm Jared removed the clockwork manipulator and tossed it aside. He added some more salve to his cock and then buried himself to the hilt in Jensen's ass with one sharp thrust, relishing the feel of Jensen's ass, still twitching and fluttering from his powerful orgasm.

Jared gripped Jensen's shoulders tightly and began to piston his hips, fucking into Jensen as hard and as fast as he could. Jensen stumbled forward until his thighs were flush against the desk, no longer able to brace himself against Jared's onslaught. Jared reached underneath to grasp Jensen's softening cock and Jensen shivered, overly sensitive but unable to push Jared's hand away. Jared continued his quick, hard thrusts and Jensen moaned feebly.

It did not take Jared long, so devilishly turned on by the way Jensen had completely fallen apart without ever having his cock stimulated, before he felt his balls draw up in expectation. He grabbed Jensen round the waist as he straightened his long legs and arched his back, locking his knees and lifting Jensen's hips off the desk, high enough that Jensen's feet fumbled for the plush carpeting beneath them. Jensen twitched against him weakly, before giving in and letting Jared handle him like he weighed no more than a rag doll.

"Gods!" Jared cried as he began to pump his seed inside Jensen's bowels, deeper than he'd ever been before, until Jensen's tight channel was milking him dry.

"Gods," Jared said again, softer, as he pulled away and Jensen flopped back over onto the desk.

Jared washed himself up and then took a damp cloth over to Jensen, carefully wiping down his stomach, his thighs, the rim of his ass where Jared's come was still dribbling out.

"Hmmf," Jensen said, struggling against the desk to stand. Jared picked him up and dropped him in the middle of their rumpled bed, still quite naked.

"Christ, man, I'm not a woman," Jensen complained.

"No, you're prettier," Jared said as he climbed in next to Jensen, who snorted and rolled over, his back to Jared.

"Where on earth did you get that… that… thing?" Jensen asked finally.

"Dr. Wilke told me about it. It's apparently all the rage in Europe."

"Lord," Jensen said. Then he sat up with alarm and asked, "Does Dr. Wilke know who you were planning to use it on?"

Jared chuckled but didn't answer. He stroked Jensen's freckled arm for a moment before saying "I have another one fit for longer wear that doesn't vibrate. I think you shall wear it on the train when we return home."

"Ha! Not bloody likely," Jensen said, but Jared detected a shiver of arousal as Jensen imagined the intriguing possibilities of such a device. Jared curled his large body around Jensen's then and held him close as Jensen drifted off.

Jared did wonder sometimes at how easily Jensen had slipped under his sway so many months ago in a suite at Young's Hotel, such that he had acquiesced so readily to Jared's commands; wondered if Jensen truly followed Jared's suggestions now because he wanted to or because Jared's voice still held some power that caused Jensen to do his bidding.

But that was surely ridiculous; Jared routinely had to spend several minutes coaxing his subjects to a state where they would respond to commands at the sound of his voice, something he hadn't done with Jensen since this all began so many months ago.

Whatever the case, Jared found that he didn't like to dwell upon it too much. If Jensen was in fact still spellbound, he could someday shake off his love for Jared as easily as shedding a bathrobe. Jared felt a flutter of panic in his chest at the thought.

Best not to think about it.

Jared burrowed his nose into the juncture of Jensen's warm neck, inhaling his scent. He was happy and Jensen was happy, and they made each other happy. And surely that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it turns out that writing historical porn made me a little crazy checking for anachronisms. Like, even though the World's Fair opened in 1893, use of the word _bathrobe_ wasn't documented until 1894 and I wrestled with whether to use it. So yeah, crazy. Even though I'm sure there's dozens of other mistakes I didn't catch. And even though there was no such thing as a portable clockwork vibrator in the 1890s. I just thought the idea was too fun to pass up.


End file.
